Page 4 of Enticing

Nobody told you YOU should be having sex with your sisters.

Ares

Yeah, Henny. Incest isn’t cool.

Hendrix

You guys are shitheads.

Leo

I’ll see you tomorrow, Ares.

Turns out, Hunter was wrong about one thing.

Most of the girls know how to skate.

That’s about all the hockey most of them know, but according to what Serena told me when I got here, being able to skate was a prerequisite for the program. Ten little girls are disbursed between six coaches. Three guys from the Revolution and three guys from Kroydon University’s team.

They’re here.

They’re excited.

And they’re talkative.

Really talkative.

My niece Molly is leading the pack in her tiny pink camo skates, gliding across the ice like she was born there. And rightfully. My brother-in-law Ares is right behind her, watching Molly beam like she just won the championship game when she manages to make it from one of the small nets set up to the other without falling.

Meanwhile, the tiny tot in front of me isn’t so lucky. When she goes down, it’s hard.

“You okay, kid?”Please don’t cry. With gentle hands, I set her back on her feet and hold her shoulders until she’s steady again. It only takes a moment before the short stack with the bright pink helmet tips her head back and shrugs out of my hold. Wild chocolate-brown hair dangles from two braids over her shoulders. “I don’t need help.”

My chest vibrates with silent laughter. “Okay, short stack.”

“I’m a full stack, thank you very much,” she answers, and I bite my lips, pretty sure this kid would be offended if I laughed at her.

Instead, I narrow my eyes and tilt my head. She’s a tiny little thing. Far from a full stack of pancakes. “A short stack with very good manners.” I wink. “Do you have a name?”

She rolls her eyes so hard they should hurt. “Of course.” Her small hand plays with the edge of her mint-green coat. “Izzy.”

“You’re pretty good on skates, Izzy.”

“My aunt taught me last year,” she tells me proudly with a little iron will in her eye that makes me think this kid has thatfuck you, watch mementality that all great athletes have. It’s a mentality that can’t be taught, and if she’s got it already, she’s got more going for her than most grown men I know.

Cohen Kingston, a college senior and captain of the Kroydon University hockey team who also got roped into doing this thing by his cousin Serena, blows the whistle, and the short stack and I look up. “That’s a wrap for today. Time to get off the ice. Let your coach know if you need help getting your skates off. Your mommies and daddies will be waiting when you’re done.”

Izzy looks from Cohen to me and sighs. “Does he think we’re babies?”

This kid’s too much.

“How old are you?” I ask as we skate back to the open panel by the player’s bench, and I watch carefully as Izzy walks over the lip.

“I’m five and a half,” she tells me as she concentrates on staying up. “Well, Mom says it’s more like five and a quarter. But half sounds older.”

“Definitely not a baby,” I agree as Molly comes flying in behind me.

“Uncle Leo, did you see? I scored a goal.” She squeals as Ares picks her up and plops her down on the bench before he unlaces her skates. Molly looks so much like my sister, it’s scary, but her boisterous personality is all her father. At least when she’s with people she’s comfortable with. And apparently when her brother isn’t around.

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